In Conversation With is a digital interview series which aims to present artists in their studio, talking about their practice. Explore In Conversation With Chuma Adma (b. 2001, South Africa), a Johannesburg-based multidisciplinary artist whose work explores visibility, Black identity, and self-actualization.
Let’s start at the very beginning of your love for art. What first drew you to visual art, and how did your journey as an artist begin?
Like every other child, I was very enthusiastic about cartoons. I used to draw the characters that stood out to me the most. We were super into Winx Club and Bratz. At around 7 or 8, a bunch of us girls would trade drawings after school. It’s what I would look forward to the most. I think the communal aspect is what made the drawings so valuable. I remember how giggly and excited we were during these exchanges.
But also, I’ll never forget my grade 3 teacher, Ms Byloo. I picked up oil pastels for the first time in her classroom. She taught me what blending was and I suddenly found myself tagging along with her to the older children and drawing all these flowers that were used as props for the annual school play – the play that year was Princess and the Frog.
What does a typical day in your studio look like, and how would you describe your overall creative process?
I always make a cup of coffee, or I'm arriving at the studio with a coffee in my hand. I don't begin painting right away, I'll put on some music, tidy up a bit from my previous studio session. I’m trying to build a library, I love reading, so I’ll pick up a book. When I’m wanting to take a break while painting, I’ll rest in another world – in books that typically don’t have anything to do with art or philosophies (a book I’m currently into is an old sea adventure based on, and written by, an actual sea explorer). Sometimes I just sit and look outside, at the sky, how the sunlight shines through the leaves of the trees. I’ll just ponder… then I pull my sleeves up and start painting.
My process, however, starts way before I step into my studio. My practice is research based and extremely investigative. I’m interested in knowledge production and meaning making, currently I’m looking at a significant amount of anthropological research, particularly on Homo Naledi as well as African Cosmology of the Bantu Kongo. Although I don't follow, I enjoy reading published papers on biological philosophies and sciences. I find I am able to think through Blackness as self-actualisation when I’m applying these systematic ways of being that you find in plant life for example. All of my interests feed into each other, and so I’m considering these things in formalising my world building and meaning making through mark marking and painting.
At present, what key themes and ideas underpin your practice?
Knowledge production and meaning making. Also, anthropology. I’ve come across the term ‘situatedness’ which is quite perfect and encapsulates all my areas of interest, except now I’m more keen on learning more about my culture and language. I’m growing older, (things)/ and my memories of being in the Eastern Cape feel further away, that frightens me. It's interesting how this manifests through language for me. I have a basic understanding of Xhosa, enough to get by, and this language, Xhosa, is literally the pathway of answering a lot of these queries I have. There’s a deep lineage of knowledge and a connection to land that exists in Xhosa mythologies and folklore, and to gain access to that, I have to speak and understand the language. I am motivated by that, and I can see how important preservation is.
Are there specific artists, theorists, or movements you look to as key sources of inspiration?
I enjoy Mark Rothko’s work, his understanding of colour and especially how emotive his paintings are. I aspire for my paintings to carry a similar sentiment. Gerard Sekoto is probably the first artist whose work I fell in love with. ‘Yellow Houses – a Street in Sophiatown’ is a masterpiece. His work is honest. I’m really into the Japanese-led Mono-ha movement. I love the philosophy of the movement, I relate to it and learning more about its aesthetic theory has definitely influenced my considerations around materials and materiality. Everything I have read about Mono-ha is quite abstract, but I believe anyone who reads up on it will find what's meant for them. It's almost like an oracle, at least for myself. This is why I want to read Xhosa better, so I can find my oracle in mythologies rooted in Xhosa culture instead.
With specific reference to balance, form, line, and movement, what shapes your approach to abstraction?
Repetition and flow. I am starting to think through my paintings as language systems. With my interests in knowledge production, biology and academia I am chasing a structure or some sort of formality that will allow my paintings to exist as sources of knowledge. It’s interesting because a large part of my practice is built on illegibility and opacity. I’ve unconsciously been thinking of my mark making as steganography. Within my organic marks, there’s still structure and repetition when you take a step back, like fractal geometry.
Let’s unpack the title of your debut Cape Town solo show, What is here, has always been here, and always will be. What does the title encompass for you?
I am really fascinated by the landscapes of South Africa, and anthropology. My studio is in Hartbeespoort which happens to be the vicinity that Homo Naledi roamed and lived. Something clicked in me, I felt that I encountered the earth, or I opened myself up to it somehow. I went from researching the plant species of the tall grass that grows in the area – the same grass I’ve worked with in a sculptural painting. I wanted to trace how far back the grass species have been growing on this land. It felt thrilling thinking about how I can go out in the field and touch the same grass that has been sprouting for a millennia throughout human evolution. I can look up and ponder over the stars, and how the sky changes colour, and the way the colours of the landscape change with the seasons. People had to look up at the stars for so long before they could begin to read them, and use them as a navigation system. Southern folklore encompasses anthropomorphism, the San people have an incredibly deep, rooted knowledge of the landscape. These things have been here so long, and remain way beyond any lineage. I'm interested in the spiritual relations we have culturally and historically with the elements of the earth. The title is to declare my earnestness in my thinking and exploring Blackness and African (Spiritual) ways of being truly autopoietic.
You are widely recognised for your achromatic work, making the introduction of a vivid teal in this exhibition a striking development. What prompted this shift, and what is the significance of this color?
I’m evolving as a person – the things that matter to me are changing. The colour is typically achieved by mixing a liquid pigment in ikalika, which is a lime wash that is often used to paint the exteriors of homes emakhaya. This was the colour of my grandmother's house. Usually I am pulling from academic archives, research and writers. Now, I am more intrigued by my cultural history and indigenous knowledge systems through looking at landscapes and folklore. When I’m pondering in my mind lately, I find myself in my grandmother’s yard, the ground is dark and damp, I smell the dirt and the grassy cornfields. I feel the warmth of the sun and I see her blue compound. This colour stands out so much against the tones of the landscape eBizana. I am curious about this colour. I think I’m using the colour as a vehicle to revisit my curiosities as a child, simple curiosities (Why is the sky blue? Why are the stars so far away? How was the wind once a man?). But also, I am a woman now. My understanding (how I approach the world, my relativity and internal dialogues) is changing, I am empathetic towards the women in my lineage, so I’m thinking a lot about her at that time, and my mother and aunts.
What do you consider the most vital tenet of your evolving practice?
Curiosity. I allow myself to pursue my interests no matter how unrelated they seem to be within my practice, because the truth is that everything is connected, and everything feeds into each other. That’s how I choose to approach anything. It is also important for me to revisit things I think I know because I arrive at these things as a different person as I was in my previous encounters, so they read differently and I am able to apply myself differently. It's ‘old’ information but it feels new to me only because I have changed and I arrive at new understandings because of what I have gathered during my foraging for other things that I am interested in.
Looking back on your artistic journey so far, what stands out as a personal highlight?
Honestly it’s recognising my practice as something that is in praxis. I have dedicated my life to painting and to thinking through Blackness as an autopoietic system, as well as self-actualisation. My personal highlight is seeing the synchronicity of how the decisions I’ve made have accumulated to a point where I can take a step back and really feel and see the physical proof of my actualisation. The proof is in how I am able to note how my work is evolving, the interest my practice has generated through deep meaningful conversations with people who spend time with my work in my studio, fairs and exhibitions and how my work is being accepted globally as well. I’m proud to know that my work sits in collections all over the world. #globalising umbhaco one painting at a time!
To wrap up, what advice would you offer to emerging, independent artists navigating today's art ecosystem?
We all have aspirations as artists. The best thing to see are other artists achieving those things, whether they're close to you in proximity, or artists you admire from a far on the other side of the globe online, because that means that these things are real, tangible and something you can achieve as well. But these things (to me) are a byproduct of art making. My advice would be to decide what type of artist you want to be, and act accordingly, it's all about compounding actions. Trust your own timing and journey. You will get the exhibition and fair invitations, institutional acquisitions, national and global success, but those things and opportunities find you because of your practice and artistry. You have to prioritise your practice and make honestly. The more you paint, the better you become, and the clearer your artistic practice becomes. The opportunities will find you. Your uniqueness matters and it is what makes your work valuable, so you have to stay true to yourself and your practice. You’ve got this!
Images courtesy of the artist. Photography by Camilla van Hoogstraten.